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The Forgotten Hero
Arc 1 - New World, Chapter 3.1 - Trouble comes

Arc 1 - New World, Chapter 3.1 - Trouble comes

 "Just leave me alone," whimpered a thin, teenage girl, her pointed ears flattening against the sides of her head as her purple skin darkened.

"Look, the dark elf is getting angry," chuckled a red-skinned boy, two small, bump-like horns sticking out of his forehead.

A small, dwarf-like girl joined in, sporting what appeared to be the beginnings of a wispy beard on her chin."What's wrong Elelth? Gonna start crying like a baby again? Mother... Father... don't leave me alone."

The laughing group had half surrounded and pushed the dark elf away from the road, cutting her off from the rest of the refugees, but it seemed to be a pointless gesture.

Most of the refugees passing averted their gaze or pretended not to notice. It wasn't that they didn't care, it was that they shared a lot of resentment towards the upper classes and didn't want to stick their necks out for a stranger, especially as the situation didn't look life threatening.

Most made excuses to themselves along the lines of 'kids will be kids.'

Rumours were running rampant about the origins of their suffering, and most of them pointed to the upper classes or even the Alliance itself. Some said that a secret weapon malfunctioned during a test, others that it was all a ploy to cull the growing number of lower classes to secure the noble's position.

Though most dismissed the rumours and believed the official story, that a mysterious entity called the Devil appeared and battled the demigods, killing all but one in an attempt to free the Demon Lord, they couldn't help but let some of what they heard cloud their thinking.

Their reluctance was compounded by the fact that the girl was alone while wearing obviously expensive, if ruined, clothes after so many weeks. This hinted that either she wasn't that important and had been abandoned or, more likely, everyone she knew had been killed. In comparison, the other kids, though scruffy, looked relatively well indicating that their parents were still around and strong enough to support them.

Making enemies when every day was a fight for survival was not a smart move and so, having made their excuses, they quickly shuffled away and thought nothing more of it.

The ex-hero internally laughed as he approached. He could see if one person stepped forward, the rest would but, just like the humans in his old world, fear of the status quo or standing out paralysed them. It meant that even if, as a collective, they were more powerful, they were cowards at best, mindless sheep at worst, who only thought of themselves and decided that, as long as it didn't directly effect them, it had nothing to do with them.

He knew there were limits to their apathy, thinking back to the two thugs, but it seemed bullying due to social status wasn't seen in the same light as racism which once again confused him.

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The ex-hero felt it was the same thing. Racism was just another form of bullying or discrimination. Whether the excuse was race, intelligence, gender, looks, social status or anything else, it was bullying. If you couldn't accept one, then you couldn't accept any of them and the one thing he hated almost as much as betray, was hypocrites.

The largest boy, a green-skinned half troll, was about to say something when a shiver ran down his spine, causing him to look to the left subconsciously.

There he saw a man, sporting an unnerving smile, walking towards the group, unlike everyone else who was avoiding looking in their direction, this man's grey, raptor-like eyes locked the youth in place as his insides screamed at him to run. A small bead of sweat began falling down the side of his head.

A short girl, another half troll, standing next to the boy looked around him to see why he had stopped only to release a small squeak and jump backwards. "It's the bloody monster ripper! Run before he rips your hearts out."

The group of kids, looking to be about eleven to fifteen years old scattered back into the crowd as a few of the people near the ex-hero took a step away, realising who they were walking beside.

"Ouch, that actually hurts a bit," grumbled the man as he continued to walk forward, his eyes only glancing at the girl before continuing to look around as if enjoying a scenic walk, letting out a loud yawn before continuing his grumbling. "It's like I'm the boogie man or something. Stupid kids."

Elelth's heart rapidly beat as she remembered seeing the man before, always followed by whispers as people did their hardest to keep away from him on the small road.

The tales of the human looking man, wearing a grey cloak, pinned with a skull and sickle brooch, laughing menacing as he ripped monsters apart before crushing their mana cores with his bare hands was almost as talked about as the news from their homeland. Let alone beating a monster without a weapon, monster cores were notoriously strong, stronger than most metals and even the most powerful races couldn't achieve such a feat.

Over time, each story grew more unbelievable until he had almost become a living myth. No one knew where he came from or what he thought about everyone talking behind his back, but he didn't seem to care, almost acting like he was crazy at times. Staring at flowers, almost crying when he ate anything or constantly rambling to himself, sometimes in a strange, unknown language.

Before she knew it, the man was about to pass her. Elelth had lost her chance to run into the crowd and so, quickly looked to the floor studying her feet in an attempt not to draw his attention.

The terrifying question of why this man, who was almost as famous for being a loner as a monster killing psychopath, had bothered to save her caused her ears to flatten.

Nothing in this world was free, or at least that is what her parents taught her, and so he surely expected payment of some kind. She had nothing on her but her clothes and-

Fearing the worst, she did not want to offend the man, Elelth tried to steady her voice. "T...thank you, sir, f...f...fo for helping me, but I have nothing of va...value."

"Huh? I did what?" responded the man as he stopped and turned to look at her. "You're talking to me right?"

His light brown hair matched his short, unkempt beard, a large, white scar running down the right side of his face as his eyes scanned her, making her feel as if he could see the very essence of her soul.

She watched as his confusion was replaced with realisation before dismissively waving her off. "Urg, don't worry about it kid. I had no intention of interfering. I am just heading in the same direction as everyone else, and those muppets got the wrong idea."